Busy Anxiety to Loving Words

My morning didn’t start out well — no coffee in the house.  Or, more accurately, no milk or cream for the coffee that was in the house.  This means no coffee for me.  When I start a morning without coffee, there is nothing to burn off the fog of last night’s handful of (prescribed) medications.  I need it like I need air.  I know there is someone out there who knows this feeling.  I know DSB knows this feeling, but there must be someone else out there who feels it.

After chatting with DSB for not nearly long enough, I gathered my things and headed out to my car.  I had many missions to accomplish and it was going to be a long day.  The lack of coffee left me with a sense of foreboding, and I almost stayed home, but these tasks of today were not up for negotiation.

My first mission was to get two cavities filled.  Since I have been on disability, and without the cushy dental insurance of the private sector, I have been relegated to getting my dentistry issues resolved at the local free clinic.  I shouldn’t complain.  At least I have access.  At least I have a father willing to pay the $58 for each filling.  At least I don’t have to resort to an extraction.  I tell myself these things as I go into the dirty waiting room and speak with a disgruntled support staff worker.

I am very quietly pleased when I am almost immediately called back.  The dental assistant resists my attempts at chatting, and I feel like I might be lower than the gum on her shoe to her.  I can understand that.  Burnout at a free clinic is common.  I decide not to  hold it against her as she turns the radio on to a rap station that I detest.  Within minutes, I am greeted by the dentist.  I am very pleased.

Dr. Bob tells me that he has volunteered six weeks of his time to the Clinic, being recently retired from private practice.  He has good bedside manner and he is chatty and his hands don’t shake.  Dr. Bob appears to see me as a person and is very interested in my dental hygiene.  He did a pain-free filling and then, examined my x-ray, and said he thought we should just “watch” the other tooth, because he thought it could be cleared up with regular flossing and brushing.

I liked Dr. Bob, and Dr. Bob is the first dentist I have liked since I started going to the clinic.  I asked him how much longer he would be helping out, and could I schedule my next two fillings with him being the dentist.  He said I could, and that’s just what I did on my way out the door.  I go back in two weeks and am actually looking forward to it.

My next trip is about 45 minutes to the East, to see my psychiatrist.  He also works at what would be called the “free clinic.”  It is county based (I go out-of-county because my employment from before would have me running into former co-workers and clients; basically a privacy issue) and it has really treated me well, as far as med services go.  They also have the wonderful intensive DBT program that I have been through a few times.  For an organization on a shoe-string budget, they do good work.

I see my psychiatrist and tell him that I had to stop taking Adderal because it made me too jittery.  I switched back to Ritalin, and he increased the dose.  I also told him about all of my problems falling asleep and he prescribed Sonata.  I like my doctor, I really do.  He is somewhat elderly, perhaps early 70’s, and I asked him if he was getting ready to retire anytime soon.  He laughed and said they were too short staffed for him to do that, but that he might scale back to just a few days a week in January.  Anything I can do to keep this man, perhaps the very best psychiatrist I have ever known, in his office, I will do.  It’s not common to find good practitioners in county clinics.

After the appointment, I drove to a water garden store that sells product to my parents, for a pick-up.  It went smoothly and I headed back to the highway.  On the way home, I realized I had either been in a car or at an appointment for six hours.  I had wondered why I had been feeling so exhausted.

After dropping the product to my parents, I ran to Walgreen’s to fill the new prescription and get my Ritalin refilled.  They said it would be a fifteen minute wait, so I went and parked and talked to DSB on the phone for a little while.  After 15 minutes, I drove back through the drive-thru and was told that the Sonata had a prior authorization issue, but the Ritalin was ready.  Walgreen’s said they sent two notices to my doctor, and I called and left a message on the nurse’s line for good measure.  I’d really like to try the new prescription and see if I can’t start sleeping.

Finally home, with take-out in hand, DSB and I started processing the day.  Even though much good had happened, I kept picking up the negatives.  I didn’t get the kitchen cleaned.  I didn’t make dinner.  I didn’t get the trash down to the road.  I didn’t get any laundry done.  Gas was too expensive.  On and on and on.

DSB often says wise things, and to my moaning, he says, “Rose, things are finally starting to look up.  Stop looking down.”  For some reason that just clicked in my brain.  He said, “You know how when you’re in a plane or up somewhere high, and they tell you not to look down?  What do you do?”  I said, “I look down.”  “What happens,” DSB asked.  “I get scared,” I said.  “Okay then.  Stop looking down.  All of the good stuff is up here.”

That conversation right there is a prime example of why DSB and I are still together.  We are magic together.  He is magic for me.  I have never loved someone so totally and completely, who so totally and completely gets me.  I mean, he REALLY gets me.


Coffee Mornings

Early morning, still dark outside.  Slightly chilly, as we turn the heat down overnight.  My head is congested and still sleepy from nine hours worth of humid CPAP air.  I’m slowly waking up, coughing as I light up my first cigarette of the day.  Within moments of that cough, I get the old predictable text message:

“Coffee on, hon?”

Even though he’s just in the other room, lying awake, it is always my duty to make that first pot.  I don’t begrudge him that, even though I could.  The way I look at it, chances are he didn’t sleep worth a damn, and it just makes it all the more special when he makes the first post on that rare occasion.

I finish that first cigarette and stumble, foggy-headed, to brew the first pot.  It’s a ritual and I take some comfort in knowing what the grounds and the water will create: a special liquid that bonds DSB and I tighter and closer every morning.  Coffee-time is our everyday time together.  Some of our best moments are before 8:00 a.m.

Nine minutes later, the coffeepot is gurgling loudly, signaling DSB from the back rooms of the house to come to the dining room.  He shuffles in, hitching up his jeans and smiling at me.  Every morning, “Oh look!  You made me coffee!”  And every morning I smile back at him, saying, “Well, someone had to…might as well have been me.”  Every morning, like clockwork, like something that could stand the test of time.

We settle, with our Folgers and French vanilla creamer, into the comfy green rolling dining chairs.  We scoot around until we are directly across from each other, and DSB teases me with the third chair, offering it so I can put my feet up, with me pushing it back at him and telling him to let it sit, for our dog, Kizzie.

With our dogs, Rascal and Kizzie, running in and out of the doggie door, barking at the neighbors leaving for work, barking at the trash truck and the school bus, we are in the best seats for the show.  We put our everyday questions out there:  “How did you sleep?” and “What’s on your plate today?” come first and foremost.  I usually have a dream to tell him about, and he usually tells me that he heard me up four times the night before, using the restroom.

We talk about our plans…for the hour, the day, the week, our life.  We dream big and smile, laugh, and joke.  DSB gives me static and makes blonde jokes, telling me that if he didn’t give me a hard time, I’d think he’d fallen out of love with me.  That’s probably true.  We laugh until we’re wide awake, ready to take on the day.  With a kiss and a hug, we go off to our separate missions, confident it will be a good day because of how it started.

Getting Back on Track

Merry Christmas to all!  I have been up since 5:00 a.m. so I could see my dear Dr. Love off to work.  I wanted to send him off with a nice breakfast, but he refuses to put anything in his body besides Mountain Dew until at least 8:00.  Guess that means more eggs and toast for me!!

I appreciate the support I receive on this blog, especially from Pasha and QoB.  Very wise souls, they are.  I am receiving additional support from my SparkPeople site.  I have been very on track lately with eating and exercise and I owe a lot of that to the articles, community support, and food and exercise trackers.  I feel like I can actually DO this, LOSE this weight and get into a healthy zone again.

We went to the big city yesterday afternoon to spend time with my Dad, his wife, and my sister and her husband.  We had a really great time.  My sister made an awesome dinner of crab and mushroom soup, and cheddar biscuits.  We also had my very favorite hummus and pitas from my very favorite Middle Eastern bakery.  YUMMMM!  My sister is quite the cook and presents to us involved a variety of homemade candies, homemade peach preserves and pickled beets.  Even some homemade elderberry syrup.  My sister and her husband gave very thoughtful and creative gifts and I just hope they enjoy the gifts we are giving them as much as we will enjoy ours!

The thing I love most about Christmas is the giving.  I am really excited about all the presents we are giving everyone.  We gave my dad and his wife a water feature (fountain kit) that I think they are just going to LOVE.  They seemed really excited about it.  Kudos go to QoB and Big Dog for precillitating that one through the water garden store.  🙂

Many other lovely presents for our dear family, but I won’t be sharing any of the details until later because, well, my mom reads this blog and would just LOVE to get the scoop before it happens.  Love ya, Madre!  🙂

I am feeling really good today.  I have been getting back in my morning routine and it has made all the difference in the world.  Just in the past few days, I am sleeping better and am able to get up earlier.  I am love.love.LOVING my morning coffee and sunlamp routine.  I wish that I had found Cymbalta years ago, but am happy that I have it now.

I have grouped all of my holiday music onto a playlist on iTunes, and it is really awesome.  I didn’t realize I had such a great collection, but QoB still has a few CD’s I need to download.  Holiday music is one of the best things about Christmas.  I have been listening to it on the radio non-stop at work since about the middle of the month and anytime I am at home.  I am pretty sure, though, that I will be completely sick of it by the end of New Year’s.  That’s when Christmas will be over us, because we are going to celebrate Christmas in the middle-of-nowhere with Dr. Love’s family over New Years’ weekend.

Merry Christmas to all…I love you…and you…and you.  You know who you are!!

QoB and I like to rock it out to:

Mariah Carey, All I Want For Christmas is You